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friend poetry

our pleasant moments fly
sleep, gray brother of death
i am in love with high far-seeing places
better than granite
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
tell me less or tell me more
i can not tell you now
daughters of time
tell me not
in all things not spoken of
splendid and terrible your love
beautiful
which i wish to remark

 



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